The Dark Within
by JacksBoonie
Summary: Just some scene changes to books four and five. Nothing special. :


AN: How goes it, Kats and Kittens? Just a little nothing that I wrote after reading the books. Love them! My favorite series, as a matter of fact. Anywho, just a few scene changes and such from _The Grey King_ and _Silver on the Tree_. It skips around some, but it shouldn't be too hard to get, neh? Hope you enjoy:)

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Dark Is Rising_ series. I do not own the characters . . . How very depressing . . .

_The Grey King_:

The mist surrounding the lonely mountains, which for so long has plagued them as the Breath of the Grey King, now slowly embarks downward towards Will and those around him . . . or perhaps just _himself_. It sweeps along the dew-covered grass, disturbing not a single strand, over Owen Davies and Bran, over the tense and trembling dog, and over John Rowlands and Caradog Prichard, who is still trapped in John's grasp.

It curls upward as if it is a snake, staring into Will's petrified eyes. The young boy searches his mind frantically for something . . . _anything_ that will stop this dark cloud. Although he knows that the Dark cannot kill someone of the Light, there are so many things worse than death.

As will takes a step backward, the mist lunges, suddenly, towards him. Instead of knocking him to the ground or even passing around him, however, the mist speeds straight through his chest. Will's eyes widen as the breath is knocked out of him. He starts to shiver, feeling as if someone has torn his chest open and poured ice cold water throughout his body. He is incapable of moving and soon finds that he cannot speak as he tries to open his mouth and cry out.

Tears well in his eyes as his body becomes numbingly painful. The mist continues to enter his body as he sees Bran and John approach him at a run. He can see them mouth his name, but the roaring in his ears prevents him from hearing anything. He feels his legs collapse, and he falls to his knees.

Suddenly, a small voice echoes through his mind.

"Fight it!"

Bran's voice.

"Will, you've got to fight it! Fight! Don't let it overtake you! Fight . . ." The voice trails off as a loud, booming voice takes over.

"My gift to you . . . Old One!" The Grey King laughs, and his laughter is the last thing that Will hears before something cold and sharp pierces his heart. Everything goes black.

0 o 0 o 0

Darkness is all that Will can see. An ocean of ebony with no chance of being rescued. Never seeing his family, his friends. Never hearing Merriman's soft laughter or his mother's sweet singing. Only the threatening whispers of the Grey King. Only his mist over Will's eyes, pouring in and out of his nose and mouth.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the darkness. Small at first but gradually growing louder.

"Will," the voice says, and he immediately recognizes it as Merriman's. "Wake up, Will. You must wake up. You have much to do. Wake, Sign Seeker. Wake!"

0 o 0 o 0

Will's eyes snap open to a bright, white room. With a gasp, he sits up quickly to an old and familiar face.

"Merriman!" He breathes heavily, half smiling, half wincing. But Merriman neither smiles nor greets him. His face remains neutral, and Will can tell by this expression that something is very wrong. As a sharp pain bites at Will's heart, he can already guess what that might be.

"Yes, Will," Merriman says grimly. "The Dark has invaded your body. It is at rest now and will be as long as you possess the strength to suppress it." Will nods, still dazed from his sleep.

"What do we need to do?" He asks quietly.

"This has never happened to our own," Merriman explains. "The Dark has never attempted this before. They must have been waiting to attack the youngest and newest of the Old Ones."

"Don't forget the weakest," Will replies miserably.

"No, Will," Merriman says, giving the boy a sad smile, the first that Will has seen since he awoke. "You could not have prevented this anymore than I could have . . . and I am guilt-ridden that I was not there. If I had been-"

"If you had been," Will interrupts, "_you_ would be in my place . . . and I would not be able to stand it, Merriman."

"Just as I am not able to stand _this_," Merriman says irritably. He stands from his chair at the end of the small bed that the younger boy lies in. Will quickly swings his legs over the side of the bed and attempts to stand, but Merriman has to catch him as they give out. His entire body feels numb, and an immense sharp pain seems to ring throughout his chest, up his spine, and echo around his head. Gently, he is set back on the bed.

"How long have I been unconscious?" He asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Three weeks," Merriman states, sitting beside him. Will looks up abruptly, the look on his face causing Merriman to laugh.

"Do not worry yourself, Will," he smiles. "_Here_ it has been three weeks, but time means nothing in this place. It has been but a couple of days where your friends and family live. Currently, you, Bran Davies, and John Rowlands are taking a few days off in town, or at least that is the story your Uncle and Aunt believe. John and Bran have been very patient but are quite worried about you. They will be most relieved to hear that you are all right."

"Am I?" Will asks, looking to the ground. "There's nothing we can do, is there?" Merriman sighs, shaking his head.

"As long as the Darkness that lies within you is at rest, you are safe from its influence," he explains.

"Will I always feel this way?" Will asks with concern. "Numb and . . ." He winces as another pain surges through his heart.

"Unfortunately, the pain will not pass until the Dark within you can be extracted," Merriman says, looking at Will with an immense amount of sympathy. "You will have to bear it until then." Will sighs exhaustedly.

"Alright," he says, his mind set. "Send me back."

0 o 0 o 0

Bran and John stand impatiently by the Landrover, awaiting what is to come. The Old One who had called himself Will's master had said to wait here before they returned to the farm. It has been nearly an hour, and there has been no sign of either him or Will.

Suddenly, someone from behind them clears their throat. Both of them spin on their heels to find Will staring at them with a broad smile.

"Lord Almighty!" John breathes, rushing forward and placing his large, weather-beaten hands on Will's small shoulders. "Will bach, don't you _ever_ scare me like that again!" Will nods with a sigh, craning his neck to look up at the tall man with dark, sullen eyes. Bran slowly walks forward, his eyes concentrated on Will's hands.

"You're shaking," he points out dully.

"Just nerves," Will replies in a strained tone.

"And that mist?" John asks quietly. "The Breath of the Grey King?"

"Gone," Will lies, his smile lessening slightly. "Let's go, then. I'm starved!"

0 o 0 o 0

"Will, what's wrong with you?" John asks, pulling the Landrover onto the side of the road. "You've been acting a little ancy . . . twitching and such."

"He hasn't been twitching," Bran accuses coldly. He has not taken his eyes from his friend since they entered the car.

"He's been wincing," the pale boy continues. John looks to Will with surprise. Will's stomach slowly starts to churn.

"Can I get out, please?" He asks quietly, feeling trapped between the two.

"So you can run off to your 'master'?" Bran asks with disgust.

"No . . ." Will starts, taking deep breaths. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Without a moment's hesitation, Bran opens the door and jumps out, turning to see Will stumble out after him. The sick boy places a hand on the side of the truck to keep his balance and slowly makes his way to the back of the Landrover, where what he had been holding down now splatters disgustingly to the ground. After spitting the foul taste from his mouth, he looks up to see Bran and John standing side by side, staring at him as he stumbles alongside the truck, holding onto it for support. Bran has his arms crossed and his jaw clenched tightly.

"Will, what's wrong?" John asks with concern. "You look as if you've been to hell and back and you grow worse by the second." Sweat pours off of Will's face as if it were the middle of July. A saying of his father's comes to mind, making him smile.

_"Sundays are always hotter than Saturdays . . . especially if you live in a village that has a small, stuffy church."_ Will laughs despite the pain.

"Oh, God," John says, raising his arms up and letting them fall limply to his sides again. "He's delirious."

"Am . . . not," Will argues, falling to his knees. Bran and John rush to quickly, and will collapses backwards into the older man's arms.

"No, no, no," Bran chants, now becoming seriously concerned. "Will, you can't die! You're an Old One! You're not supposed to!"

"Die?" Will asks breathlessly. "No . . . Something that will eat away at me until I'm barely alive. The Dark cannot kill us . . . but it can certainly make us wish we were dead."

"We have to stop this!" John says frantically. "How do we stop it?"

Suddenly, Will feels a surge of energy run through his body. He stands and turns towards them as they return to their feet.

"We must stop the Dark," he says quietly, no longer sounding like a boy, "at all costs."

_Silver On The Tree_:

Jane, Simon, and Barney Drew stand on a stunning hilltop with Will Stanton as a strange boy approaches them from below.

"Bran!" Will says happily, slinging his arm around the pale boy's shoulders. To the Drews, this is nothing more than a show of friendly affection, but Bran knows differently as Will seems to be leaning on him for support.

"Good to see you, Will," Bran replies with a fake smile, slipping his arm around the boy to keep him standing on his feet.

"Bran, these are the Drews," Will introduces. "Jane, Simon, and Barney. Guys, this is Bran Davies." Bran nods to them all and they return the gesture.

"So, Bran, how have you and your dad been?" Will asks cheerfully. "No trouble from Caradog Prichard, I hope."

"No, no," Bran says with a small smile. "He and his wife moved quite a while ago. I suppose they felt a little unwelcome after all that fuss you put out . . . And you, Will . . . How have you been?" Will gives an exhausted sigh, and for a moment Jane sees a pain strike his eyes.

"Same as when we last parted," he smiles tiredly.

Bran nods, understanding the hidden message.

Although Will Stanton looks well-rested and healthy, Bran can tell that it is an act, a spell of some sort to change his appearance and keep his true form hidden to them all.

0 o 0 o 0

Will sits on a small rock holding the tuna sandwich that Jane had handed him only moments before. His eyes are glazed with thought as he stares out across the beautiful mountains and the Bearded Lake, the sandwich merely inches from his lips.

"Is something wrong with the sandwich, Will?" Jane asks quietly, making the others turn from their conversation of King Arthur to Will.

"No . . ." Will replies, the glazed look never wavering, "No, it's fine. I was just . . . thinking."

"About what?" Barney asks curiously through a mouthful of potato salad. Will takes in a small breath and lowers the sandwich, the glazed look escaping his eyes. Turning, he gives Barney a soft smile that reminds the young boy of Merriman.

"Things," he sighs. "Just things."

"Would you mind elaborating on that a bit?" Simon asks impatiently and receiving a glare from Jane and Bran. Bran stands to his feet abruptly.

"He does not need to 'elaborate' anything!" He exclaims.

"Bran . . ." Will starts.

"I beg your pardon?" Simon asks with disgust. "I believe he owes us an explanation, given the current circumstances."

"He doesn't _owe_ you anything!" Bran shouts into the taller boy's face. "If anything, you owe _him_! God knows how many times he's saved your sorry arses!"

"Bran . . . Simon . . ." Will says with labored breaths. He slowly stands on wobbling legs. Only Jane and Barney seem to notice the look of pain that strikes his face momentarily.

"We can take care of our own _asses_, thank you very much!" Simon screeches back.

"Simon, Bran-" Barney starts, staring at Will's paling complexion.

"Stay out of this, Barney," Simon warns. Neither he nor Bran take their glaring eyes off of each other.

"Guys-" Will chokes, clutching his chest. Suddenly, both boys turn to him, anger apparent on their faces.

"WHAT?" They shout at the same time.

Startled, Will takes a step back, tripping over the rock and falling backwards. As he hits the ground, the air is knocked out of him and everything fades to black. Bran, Jane, Barney, and Simon stand in horror as Will's body goes stiff. His eyes, which have remained open, turn a pitch black.

"Will!" Bran exclaims, rushing forward and falling to his knees. Slowly, Will's appearance starts to change. Dark purple circles appear underneath his eyes while his cheeks sink inward. His stomach seems to collapse slightly, revealing his ribs through his shirt. His arm and leg muscles shrink quite a bit, leaving sharp, jagged bones that look as if they will penetrate the skin at any moment. Finally, his hair changes from a healthy dark brown to a fading brownish-gray. Jane's hand covers her mouth as she gasps.

"What's happening to him?" She whispers.

"It's not what's _happening_ to him," Bran explains with a small shake of his head. "It's what's _happened_ to him. This is what he's been hiding from all of us. Ever since he left here a year ago." Bran's hand slowly reaches forward, but as it is about to touch Will's shoulder, he stops as if thinking twice about his action.

"Jane . . ." Barney says in a hushed voice. "I-I don't think he's breathing." Bran quickly looks to Will's chest, and, sure enough, there is no movement at all.

"Should we check for a pulse?" Simon asks dazedly. He starts to reach forward, but Bran grabs his wrist.

"I don't think we should touch him," he explains quietly.

"But what if he's dead?" Simon spits angrily.

"He can't die, you git!" Bran spits back. "He's an Old One, or have you forgotten?" Simon stares at Will for a moment.

"I'd forgotten," he says in a small tone. "He's just so . . ."

"Young," Jane finishes for him. She places her hands lightly on Barney's shoulders.

"We forget sometimes," Barney says softly, "that he's like Gumerry . . . that he's not just a boy . . . that he has to carry a great burden and never tell anyone about it." Bran nods in understanding, staring down at the boy's pale, lifeless face. Suddenly, Will gasps. Slowly, his appearance changes back to normal, and he sits up with an abrupt yell.

"Will," Bran says quietly, placing his hand on Will's arm. Will takes in a sharp breath and pulls away quickly. The look of utter fear on his face is replaced by relief as he realizes who it is. He sits for a moment with his eyes closed and his knees pulled up to his chest, trembling. His breaths come in deep shudders as he tries to calm himself down.

"Will," Bran tries again. "Why didn't you tell me it was so bad?"

"It's not your concern," Will replies solemnly. "I think it's time we started back. John won't be happy if we're late again." Slowly, Will stands on his shaking legs and almost falls, but Bran catches him.

"Is . . . Is that what you _really_ look like, Will?" Barney asks quietly. Will's face pales slightly.

"You . . . You saw?" He asks in a small voice. The others nod. Will looks at his muddy sneakers and takes deep breaths. He looks up to give them an explanation, but finds that none of them are moving. Soon, he notices a tall, swaying figure behind the Drews.

"Merriman," he says exhaustedly. Merriman gives him a sad smile.

"You grow worse, Sign Seeker," he says quietly. "The Dark within you is much stronger than it was before. Soon, it will come out of rest, and you will be in great danger."

"I understand," Will says, stumbling forward. Merriman catches him in an embrace.

"Will?" A voice asks from behind him.

"Where'd he go?" Comes Simon's confused voice. Will turns towards them all.

"There he is!" Barney says excitedly. "Come on, Will. We don't want you and Bran to miss your ride!"

Will smiles slightly and turns back to Merriman to find that he is no longer there.

"Come on, Will!" Bran says anxiously. "Mrs. Rowlands can only keep him waiting for so long! You know how impatient he gets."

"Yea," Will calls. "I know."

0 o 0 o 0

As the five approach the Landrover, they see a frown upon John Rowland's face.

"I said four o'clock," he says harshly. "It's a quarter after."

"Sorry, Mr. Rowlands," Will says calmly. "We had some . . . trouble." John looks to him with a curious face.

"_Dewin_ trouble, is it?" He asks, one eyebrow raised. The corner of Will's mouth twitches as he looks to the ground. John studies him carefully.

"Well," he says finally, "you're just lucky the wife has a liking for you. Otherwise you'd be walking." Will gives a sigh of relief, grateful that John does not pry anymore. As he turns, he receives confused looks from the others.

"Will, I don't remember any trouble," Jane whispers.

"I know," Will smiles.

0 o 0 o 0

Six figures stand around a tall tree holding the signs that Will had gathered once upon a time. The sky flashes with anger and everything around them seems to dance with every flash of light. Suddenly, a voice bubbles deep within Will, slowly making its way upward.

"You can't win, Old One," it says maliciously. A sharp pain clashes through his chest, making him fall to his knees.

"Will!" Bran calls from beside him. "Will, fight it!" Slowly, Will pushes himself to his feet.

"You cannot fight, Old One," the voice echoes through his mind. "You are weak!" Again, Will falls to his knees, the pain worse than this time. He gasps for breath as his throat closes.

"Will!" Merriman cries. "You are stronger! You _know_ that you are stronger! FIGHT!"

Will's ears pound with both the encouraging words of his friends and the degrading threats of the Grey King. Suddenly, Will's legs receive a surge of power. His face sets to a stubborn determination, and he stands to his feet. He drowns out the Grey King's defeated screams. His eyes widen as he feels something in his chest that makes his stomach churn. His heartbeat quickens and his breaths become shallow and labored. With his free hand, he grabs his chest, scrunching his shirt in a tight fist.

Slowly, a grey mist starts to leak through his fingers. So many things seem to happen at once that everything around him starts to spin. The numb feeling that had invaded his entire body begins to slip away, leaving a warm, tingling feeling in his arms and legs. A great sense of relief comes over him as if an enormous burden has been lifted from his heart. Finally, exhaustion slowly takes his body. Will sinks to the ground, now able to let everything go and leave everyone behind.

0 o 0 o 0

Will awakens with a start. Once again, he finds himself in the small, white room. As his eyes focus, he sees Merriman standing at the end of the bed, this time with a large, sincere smile.

"Well done, Will," he says quietly. "The Dark has been defeated . . . for now . . . and you no longer have to bear the burden of the Grey King." Will sits for a moment in silent stupor.

"So, we've won, then?" He asks in a small voice. Merriman chuckles lightly.

"You know very well that the Dark will never disappear entirely," he replies, "but for now, yes, we have won."

"Good," Will says with a sigh and a tired smile. "And the others?"

"Waiting for you at Carn March Arthur," Merriman says. He is quiet for a moment before speaking again. "You know what you must do."

"Yes," Will says with a frown. "But I wish I didn't have to."

0 o 0 o 0

Bran and the three Drews stand silently by a large rock. The old man had taken Will hours ago, and there is still no sign of him.

"Well, aren't you a sorry looking bunch!" A voice says from the path behind them. Instantly, their heads snap in that direction.

"Gumerry!" Barney shouts with glee.

"Where's . . ." Bran starts. His sentence is cut short as Will steps out from behind him. Bran runs forward and pulls the boy into a hug.

"Oh, God, Will," he says with relief. "I was so frightened!" Will laughs.

"There's no need for that, Bran," he says as Bran releases him. "Don't worry. I'm fine, thanks to you. Thanks to all of you." He looks around at the Drews. Suddenly, Jane leaps forward and wraps her arms around the boy.

"Will Stanton, don't you _ever_ scare us like that again!" She scolds. Before she knows what she is doing, she lets him go and kisses him on the cheek. Will turns a bright red.

"I wasn't scared," Barney says, coming forward. "I knew you'd pull through."

"As did I," Simon says, keeping his arms crossed in that same arrogant manner but looking to Will with a new kind of respect.

"Thank you," Will says tiredly.

"So . . . So everything's all right, then?" Jane asks. "No more going up against the Dark?"

"Well . . . Not for you, at least," Will says quietly. "You see, although the Dark was defeated, it still exists. It will _always_ be around . . . and _always_ is a lot of time to rebuild oneself. There may be many more battles to come."

"We'll be ready for them," Barney says.

"No," Will sighs, looking out to the mountains. "You won't."

"Will, what do you mean?" Bran asks, his white eyebrows furrowing. He and the others look to where Will is looking. A white mist seems to be coming towards them.

"Will, what . . . what is that?" Jane asks.

"White moths," Will replies. "They're said to take memories away." All of them turn back to Will.

"You don't mean . . . _our_ memories?" Simon asks. "Will, you can't!"

"Please don't fight me on this," Will chokes out, looking to the ground. "Just let it happen. Please, just let it."

'Will,' a voice says into his head.

'Merriman?' Will asks.

'Will, you may choose one of them,' Merriman. 'One will keep their memories.'

"Only one," Will says aloud.

"What?" Bran asks. Will looks up.

"One of you will keep your memories," he says without emotion.

"Who?" Jane asks.

"I . . . I have to choose," Will says, looking back down to the ground. Slowly, the moths creep closer and closer.

"So who are you going to-" Barney starts, but, suddenly, the moths sweep over the children in a rush.

0 o 0 o 0

As the moths disappear, Will is left with a sinking feeling.

"The mountains here really are beautiful," Jane says.

"Yea, we should get Mum up here. She'd love it," Simon agrees.

"When's lunch? I'm starving!" Barney says, jumping up and down. The three Drews start down the path, laughing. Bran stands, staring at Will for a moment.

"Are you all right, Will?" He asks gently. "You look a little pale." Will looks up from the ground.

"I'm fine," he says wearily. A grin spreads across Bran's face.

"Come on, Old One," he laughs. "I'll race you to the rocks at the end of the path up there!" With that, he races up the rocky, dirt path.

"Hey, no fair!" Will calls, running after him with the first sincere smile he has shown for a very long time.


End file.
